Tethered to the Devil
by esmeralda312
Summary: Damon and Bonnie find themselves thrown together as they trek across the country to save his brother. Professor Shane suggests extreme measures to get Bonnie's powers back, and the consequences for both the vampire and the witch may be greater than anyone could have imagined. Takes place after 4x04, rated M for language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm still really new to fanfic writing and writing longer prose in general, but I really hope you like this. Bamon is my favorite, I wish the show would just give them to us already! Please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim it all! The Vampire Diaries belongs to LJ Smith and the CW.**

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He poured himself another drink. This was turning out to be a very long afternoon.

"Look, Damon. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Damon rolled his eyes, staring stubbornly out the window as he threw himself onto the couch. "It seemed pretty clear how you _meant _it, Elena."

She moved closer to him, placing her hand on his arm. He finally looked at her. "Thank you, okay? I know you were just trying to do what you thought was best for me."

His eyes narrowed, never dropping hers. "What I know is best. You all keep talking like there's some other way for this to go down. Like I'm some kind of worst case scenario. Newsflash, Elena. This is what you are now."

Frustration welled at her throat. He wasn't getting it, he was just going to keep taking it personally. She broke his gaze, looking down at the floor.

She took her hand off of his arm and didn't notice as he barely flinched. Maybe it was better this way, she thought, as a fierce guilt bubbled up beneath her skin. She couldn't appease him and really be true to Stefan at the same time, and she realized that she couldn't keep being the type of person to not be true. Not if she wanted anyone to believe she was better than some depraved monster now. Not if she wanted to believe that herself.

Damon leaned closer to her as she sifted through her thoughts, his hand reaching up to brush her cheek. Her skin tingled beneath his touch. His voice was soft. "I know you. I know what you're feeling and how to deal with it, and you ought to trust me after everything we've been through."

Elena took a slight breath, her decision made. "You clearly don't know me, Damon." She saw his eyes widen as her words hit their mark, but continued. "You keep pushing me to be someone I'm choosing not to be. It's my choice, not yours."

It struck him that he should have said the same thing to her a long time ago. His eyes narrowed again as he bitterly spat, "Of course it is." He stood and stalked out of the library. Once he seemed to be out of earshot, Elena sighed.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

Bonnie sat in her living room, alone and listless. She cradled the open book on Aboriginal witches that Professor Shane had loaned her, but she just couldn't seem to focus on it. Every time she tried to read, she found the words grew vague and blurred, until all she could see was the tortured face of her Grams, screaming in pain on the Other Side as dark veins crept up her skin. Bonnie clenched her eyes and shut the book, shaking her head.

It wasn't right.

It was like the tomb spell all over again. She could hate and blame other people, but it was all her fault, and it was all in vain. The tomb vampires still got free, Elena still turned. She'd been so proud, so sure she could fix everything herself. What was the point of having her powers if they didn't help her protect the ones she loved?

The powers were gone now, anyway. Maybe they wouldn't come back. At least then she wouldn't be able to mess it all up anymore.

She stared dully into space, unaware as time passed and the room grew dim.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

Damon crouched sullenly at the bar of the Grill, nursing his drink. His eyes flickered to the empty stool next to him but soon stared down into the tumbler again.

He was getting tired of being everybody's whipping boy. How long had these people known him now? How long had he spent, trying to prove his worth to Elena? And still, all any of them saw was some mindless monster, when he was the only one talking any sense around here anymore.

He remembered the witch, her judgy little eyes trained on him, scolding him for doing what anyone with half a brain could see was the only thing to be done. Idiots.

He noticed a figure in the corner of his eye, climbing into the empty bar stool beside him. He didn't even bother to look up. "That seat's taken."

The Hunter snickered. "Look at that, it is."

He groaned inwardly and turned to face the man. "Awesome. What the hell do you want?"

Connor sneered at him, betraying a flash of white teeth. Damon considered that ripping off the man's face might be enough fun to make him forget about his stupid problems.

"I have a proposition," the Hunter began.

"Forget this. Not interested." Damon turned, sliding out of his seat and walking away.

Connor nodded to the bartender as she placed his drink on the bar and moved to serve another patron. "It's almost like you -want- your brother staked, or something." He lifted the glass to his lips.

Damon paused his gait, barely turning back to the man. "Skip ahead to the part where you tell me the point."

Connor smiled into his glass. He set it down on the bar coolly and turned to face the vampire. "You're going to do something for me."

Damon clenched his jaw. "Still waiting for the point, asshole."

"Now, now, let's not get touchy. Oh, and you're going to need your witch."

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

Bonnie startled as a persistent knock sounded at the door. How long had she been sitting here?

She stood and walked through the dark room, stepping into the foyer. Faintly lit by the distant street lights, a familiar silhouette loomed on the other side of the front door. Damon, she thought as she flipped the porch light on and unlocked the door.

"What do you want?" She stared at him as she swung the door open.

"The Hunter has Stefan." His eyes were wild, angry.

A dull ache in the pit of her chest seemed to spread, arching through her neck and shoulders. She remembered standing at this very spot just days before, with Stefan's arms enveloped her comfortingly as she cried. He had been the only one of her friends to finally notice the grief that had her paralyzed.

She furrowed her brow and stepped outside, shutting the door behind her. "Where? How do we get him back?"

Damon shook his head. "I don't know where. 3 days, they said. They want us to solve their stupid map," he glowered, whipping a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. "Apparently only a vampire can unlock the top secret vampire-killing witchy woo-woo treasure. Witches are fucking twisted."

Despite an immediate swell of indignation, she found she couldn't really argue with him there, as visions of dark creeping veins flickered at the edge of her sight. Bonnie raised an eyebrow at him. "Wait, who's they?"

"Klaus is helping him." He shrugged. "Strange bedfellows and all that."

The ache spiked into a sharp piercing hurt, tearing through her chest. She grimaced and clenched her eyes shut, reaching her arm blindly towards the door frame for support. The hurt simmered into a hot rage as she remembered the smug indifference of the hybrid as he walked away, while she kneeled over Tyler's unconscious body, her wracking sobs for Grams echoing through the room.

"Hey Judgy, what's wrong with you?" She felt his hand wrapped around her arm, holding her upright.

She opened her eyes, their emerald hue cold and flashing angrily as she stared into his face. "I'm not doing shit for Klaus."

His grip tightened as his fingers dug into her skin. "You're right, you're not. You're not doing shit for me, either. You're doing it for _Stefan_."

Her eyes softened, but she shook his hand off of her arm. "Why do you need me? I can't do magic."

He clenched his jaw, and the ice in his eyes focused desperately on her. She was reminded of a time not so long ago (but it seemed -so- long ago) when Stefan stood before her and said, _He's my brother_, before diving into spiraling flames.

"Yeah, you're going to have to get over that. Let's go, there's no time." His hand clasped around her wrist, and she allowed him to drag her to the familiar blue Camaro.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

When he finally admitted that their trip would take them all the way to Atlanta, she had demanded he take her back home so she could at least pack.

"There is no way I'm wasting my time waiting for you to get your girly crap together." He rolled his eyes.

She glared at him. "Then you're buying me anything I need, Damon."

He shrugged. "Whatever, _Bonnie_."

She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back into the seat, losing herself in the feeling of the wind as it roared past her ears, the passing streetlights muting the stars that hung lazily over them.

This was weird. She was on some bizarre road trip with a vampire. And Damon, of all vampires. Reckless, careless, selfish Damon. She bristled, remembering the night of the frat party, the blood dripping down his face grotesquely on the dark dance floor as Elena rushed past her to get outside.

His words that night had been for Elena's benefit, but she knew he wasn't thinking about Elena when he glared at the witch and told her about the only way to cope with the guilt. He was talking about himself.

She had to admit that they had grown into a begrudging mutual respect for each other since the day he showed up in Mystic Falls and turned everything upside down. It was a far cry from their beginning, when he inspired nothing but fear and hatred in her. Sometimes she'd even felt like, despite the biting remarks they bandied back and forth, he actually had some understanding of her that the others didn't. This of course made him even more dangerous.

But remorse was the last thing she expected Damon Salvatore to confess to, least of all to her.

He was talking. "What?" she asked, leaning away from the rushing air.

"I said, how do we get your juju going again?" he said.

The witch frowned. "I don't know. I can't even cast simple enchantments." She stared down at her hands in her lap. She felt exposed by the admission, always careful to protect herself around the vampire. Still, there wasn't much point in waiting to let him find out when they needed her magic and she was useless.

Damon glanced over to her, tense crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Atticus." She looked up at him as the name slipped past her lips. His expression was strange, but she continued. "He said he could teach me other ways of performing magic. Maybe he'll know something."

"You want to ask Professor Babyface for help?" He looked unconvinced.

She glared at him, irritated. "You know his name. Have you got a better idea?"

He shrugged and turned back to the road, his lip curling into a sneer. He turned up the volume of the music, and Julian Casablancas' gritty voice blared to life as they sped towards Whitmore College.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

She heard Damon grumbling behind her.

"Bonnie? What are you doing here?" Professor Shane looked confused, standing at his front door in his cotton pajama pants, sleep ringing the dark-lashed rims of his eyes.

"I'm really sorry to bother you at home, and at this hour... but it's urgent." Her eyes were apologetic as they traced over the defined muscles of his bare torso. Apologetic and enthralled.

Damon's mutterings struck up anew.

"This is my friend Damon." She tried to smile, the corners of her mouth pulling tightly.

"Of course... of course, I'm sorry, please." He stepped aside, allowing Bonnie to walk through the door and into the house. Damon strode forward to the edge of the entryway and waited.

Atticus Shane's eyes settled on Damon's face, and the ghost of a smirk flickered over the professor's lips. He nodded. "Please do _come in_, Damon."

The vampire rolled his eyes and walked through the door.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

The professor pulled a thin white shirt over his frame as he joined Bonnie and Damon in the tidy living room. She noticed it was nothing like the cluttered college office from the other day, which had been stuffed with artifacts and treasures and history. The room was simple, neat, and seemingly unlived in.

Atticus smiled sheepishly as he saw her looking around the room. "You'll have to excuse the place, I don't spend much time away from the school."

She shook her head kindly. She was sitting at the edge of the sofa, her elbows resting on her knees. She glanced up at Damon, who paced before the nearby window like some trapped animal.

Atticus sat in the adjacent armchair with his back facing Damon. He leaned forward to place a hand on the witch's knee. "So tell me what's so urgent."

She inhaled as she began to speak. "You told me that there were other ways to draw power. Other ways to perform magic."

He nodded, waiting for her to continue. Damon leaned against the window sill, his arms crossed.

"Can you teach me?"

He studied her face. "You woke me for a magic lesson?"

Her mouth twisted uncomfortably. "We're on a deadline."

Atticus smiled, and she felt some of the tension collected between her shoulder blades slip away. "What can I say, Bonnie? I live to serve."

Damon rolled his eyes heavily from his place behind the professor's back.

"Actually, your vampire friend back there would make for a good case-study." Bonnie lifted her eyebrows in alarm, but Atticus shook his head and lifted his hands before himself defensively. "I did tell you I'm a true believer."

Damon didn't move from his spot at the window, the back of his leather jacket pressed against the glass with a studied nonchalance. Bonnie nodded to Atticus.

"With the hostile relationship between most witches and vampires, blood sharing is a resource that often goes untapped," the professor began.

It was Damon's turn to raise his eyebrows at him. "That's your fancy lesson plan? A blood bond?"

Bonnie glanced from one man to the other, confused by the tension crackling between them. "What does that mean?"

Atticus cleared his throat and leaned back in the armchair. "When a vampire feeds, it isn't just about the blood. It's about the life force... the power, essentially. The same is true when a human drinks vampire blood. They ingest some of the vampire's essence, their power, which is why we see side effects like healing and enhanced senses in humans who drink enough."

"When the human half of the blood bond is a witch, the effect is even more striking because a witch has the ability to manipulate that power in ways an ordinary human couldn't. In ways even a vampire couldn't. And if enough blood is exchanged, it forms a sort of feedback loop, amplifying the powers of both."

Bonnie's eyes flickered from the professor's serene face to the agitated face of the vampire behind him. How strange that Damon who smugly relished every kind of vulgarity looked almost... embarrassed? It made her sort of hesitant.

"What if my powers are gone? Would it still work?"

Atticus leaned forward again and took Bonnie's hand in his own. "You are a far stronger witch than you realize. Your powers aren't gone, Bonnie."

She felt a blush creeping up her neck as he continued. "You've blocked yourself from them, and only you can figure out why that is and how to fix it, but the power is still there. Tapping into the ancient reserves of a vampire would just open up new worlds of magic for you."

Bonnie pulled her hand gently from his grasp. "What do I have to do?"

He smiled. "Well, if Damon would just - "

"No. No way." Damon interrupted. "We're done. Come on, witchy." He stalked over to her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet and towards the entryway.

Bonnie glanced back at the professor as if to apologize. He nodded to her silently in return.

The vampire and the witch disappeared through the front door, and it crashed shut behind them. Professor Shane pulled his cell phone from his pocket, typing a short line of text.

_It worked, you were right. You just needed to apply the right kind of pressure._

He smiled to himself as he tapped send.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

As they reached the car, Bonnie wrenched her hand from Damon's grasp. "What the hell was that?"

"There is no way we're letting Professor Pervert talk us into a kinky blood orgy in his living room," he muttered. He yanked the passenger-side door open, causing the car to shudder as he waited for her to climb in.

She stopped, her hand clutching the edge of the door. "Blood orgy?" She stared up at him, one eyebrow raised. "Anyway, since when is that not right up your alley?"

"Blood exchange is... it's personal," he practically hissed. He slammed the door as soon as she was settled into her seat.

He walked around and climbed into the driver's seat, and the Camaro rumbled noisily as they peeled away.

They rode in silence, both lost in their thoughts.

Damon was remembering the feeling of Elena's body pressed against him as she hungrily drew the blood from his body. His free hand had twined into her hair as he stumbled back against the wall, pleasure weakening his legs. _You clearly don't know me, Damon. _He frowned as the brunette's words from that afternoon interrupted the memory, dashing his bliss away.

His foot pushed down harder on the gas pedal, and the car revved faithfully in response.

Bonnie glanced at Damon, his obvious irritation compounding her own. Did he want to save his brother or not?

After all, she wasn't exactly fond of the idea of swapping bodily fluids with him either. She cringed to imagine his teeth ripping into her throat as they had the night Emily had possessed her to destroy the crystal talisman.

But this was Stefan. Stefan who protected everyone selflessly, who sacrificed everything to save the ones he loved. She understood the significance of that sacrifice more than anyone else. If there was a way for her to help him, she had to exhaust every possibility. If there was one thing Bonnie knew about herself beyond any measure of doubt, it was that she couldn't live with doing anything less than that.

She felt her eyelids droop and noticed the clock. 1:45. She tilted her head to the side until it rested on the edge of the seat, drifting to sleep.

Damon glanced at Bonnie and turned the volume of the music down.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

Bonnie stepped out of the hotel bathroom, feeling self-conscious. Damon's black button down shirt reached halfway down her thighs. This was ridiculous, he should have just let her pack. She stared at her reflection over the bar and sighed. Whatever, it would be fine for one night, she told herself. Only for half a night now, even.

She turned to see the vampire sitting by the curtained window with his feet up on the table, lost in thought. Damon seemed completely unfazed by no longer having use of his shirt. He took a swig from one of the bottles that had stocked the room's bar.

Without a word, he swung his feet off the table and strode into the bathroom, closing the door.

Bonnie heard the shower running and sat on the edge of one of the beds, smiling as she sank into its fluffy depths. She hadn't asked how Damon had managed to wrangle a room in such a nice hotel at such an hour of the night, but then again she didn't really need to ask. She shook her head.

Atticus' words echoed in her ears. She still had her power. Could he know that for sure?

She lifted one hand to shoulder level, curling her fingers over her palm. Flicking her hand open, she focused intently on the flame that she expected to appear. Nothing happened.

She slumped forward wearily.

It was strange. The moment she knew she trusted Stefan was not a grand moment. True, in the beginning it was the sweeping moments that had slowly added up to seal her confidence in him, like watching him dive into a dark tomb to save her best friend with no promise of escape. But then the tomb spell failed and bitterness compounded on grief, and the fragile web of her trust shattered.

The moment she finally saw her own righteous heart reflected back in him was the night he orchestrated the girls' slumber party to support Caroline after the blonde had been kidnapped by werewolves. He had recognized her friend's pain, validated its devastating power, and did what was needed to alleviate it. These were not the selfish actions of a monster, and that seemingly simple gesture had opened her eyes in ways she never expected. It helped her to discern the pulsing humanity that remained in him, and in Caroline.

Damon sauntered out of the bathroom in his boxer briefs, ruffling a towel through his wet hair.

Bonnie rolled her eyes at his complete lack of shame, but she had already made her decision. "Damon, if there's something I can do to help Stefan, I have to do it."

Damon's shoulders tensed as he dropped the towel on the bar top. His voice was quiet, dangerous. "Don't you think I would too?"

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at his back. "Then what's the probl - "

"Do you trust me?" He spun around to face her. The strange crinkles began to form at the corners of his eyes once more as he studied her.

She blinked. Did she trust Damon Salvatore? The man who put everyone she loved in danger? The man who placed seemingly no value on human life except when it had been Elena's?

She remembered this look, though. The wild, intense eyes staring into her own like nothing else mattered. At the 60s dance, he had asked her if she was still willing to do whatever it took to kill Klaus, but in essence he had been asking the same question back then. Did she trust him?

She realized she was nodding.

"I trust you to do whatever it takes to protect the people you care about."

His jaw shifted as he considered her answer, but he seemed satisfied by it.

She stood, smoothing the edge of the shirt over her thighs. Walking to the writing desk in the corner, she lifted a filigreed silver envelope opener from its surface. She turned back to him, wincing as the sharp tip dragged across the side of her neck. A warm trickle slid down her skin, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest.

"Do it." She stared at him, and he saw the challenge in her eyes.

His own eyes had darkened, his nostrils flaring as the scent of her blood rushed through him. In less than a moment he was beside her, one hand snarled in her hair as the other wrapped around her waist. His canines were extended, and he looked at her questioningly.

She nodded to him, craning her neck to expose the trailing blood. As he leaned down she nervously clenched her eyes shut, anticipating the bite.

But this was nothing like that night in the woods. She gasped as his fangs broke her skin, yet his tongue lingered soothingly over the cut she had made. Soon the pain was forgotten as he coaxed her blood from her, and she found herself floating on the strangest sensation, as if her mind was bathed in light.

It was a dazed euphoria, and she felt at once disoriented and at peace. Her fingers dragged through his damp hair.

Fear again fluttered in her chest as weakness overtook her when he pulled away, but he guided her to sit on the bed once more. He sat beside her and sank his fangs into his own wrist. He held it up to her.

She looked at him, uncertain. She hadn't really considered this part. His features were soft as he barely nodded to her.

She leaned forward and closed her eyes, surprised at the heat of the sanguine liquid against her lips. The tip of her tongue ran along the jagged tears in his skin, and she felt his eyes on her. She couldn't decide what it tasted like, that metallic whisper making its way down her throat. It just felt like... electricity. She pressed her lips against the wound before it could heal, using her hands to hold his wrist closer.

As she began to draw more blood from him, she felt his other arm wrapping around her and pulling her against his body, his fingertips caressing up and down her spine through the fabric of his shirt.

Each gulp was a new wave of energy, her weakness quickly fading away. Her body was enveloped in an intoxicating fullness as his power seemed to seep through every inch of her body. Everything was alive with sensation and strength, and she was certain that if she opened her eyes she would find herself glowing. A low moan escaped her lips, muffled against his arm.

She was a touch disturbed at how much loss she felt as he finally nudged his wrist away.

His arm was still around her, and when she looked up at him his icy blue eyes gazed back. "How is your neck?" he asked quietly.

She raised her hand to feel the skin at the curve of her neck and found it completely intact. "I - I'm fine."

"And your magic?"

Bonnie drew her hand away from her neck, extending her arm past Damon's shoulder. The towel on the bar burst into flames.

He grinned, and she had to laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Is there a rule against updating twice in one day? If so, I'm sorry, please forgive me!**

**Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed the last chapter! I'm so beyond excited that people are reading any of this, to be honest, let alone enjoying it. Okay I'll stop babbling now.**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim all of the things!**

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Fear clenched around her heart vindictively, and she felt the poor muscle straining in its frenzied, uneven beat. She fled through a dense wood under the cover of night.

"C'mon love, you aren't serious. Running from a vampire in the dark? Do you not watch horror films?" Klaus' voice was distant, but she sensed him growing closer.

She scraped past a decrepit oak tree and felt her toes hitch on its jagged roots. But rather than fall, she remained suspended, her breath catching roughly in her throat at the sudden stop.

Before her stood a lithe woman, plaited black hair tucked neatly into a bonnet and her figure covered in a modest grey cloth dress. "Emily. Let me go."

Bonnie struggled to move, but she found herself completely paralyzed. Heaviness clung stubbornly to her limbs, and she felt a rising panic. Klaus chuckled, somewhere nearby.

"Let me go, Emily!"

Emily gazed down at her with an eerie tranquility, gently fingering a black shawl enveloping her shoulders. "Careful, Bonnie."

The young witch's eyes drew frantically to one side as she heard an ominous rustle there. "Emily, please!" she cried.

The rustling sound traveled around her in the darkness, slow and menacing. Her breathing was ragged and she stared up at Emily pleadingly. Her ancestor merely said, "You walk into danger."

The elder Bennett witch faded away. Bonnie still couldn't move.

She felt the inky shadows rushing towards her, gathering behind her. Hot breath lingered on her neck for a split second before she felt something tearing into her back. She screamed in pain.

Her body was being thrown to and fro like a rag doll, caught in the torturous grasp of a darkness she couldn't see or comprehend.

Her eyes finally flew open as Damon shouted at her. "Hey! Bonnie, listen to me! Wake up!" His face was filled with some kind of fear as he leaned over her and gripped her shoulders. He shook her again, hard.

She felt her head whip back from the force, pain shooting through her neck.

"Ow, jeez! Damon, I'm up! Stop!"

Damon stopped. He grabbed the back of his neck and mumbled, "Sorry."

Had he felt that? Bonnie experienced a fleeting amusement that Damon was _feeling _the consequences of his actions for once. But her satisfaction soon melted away, leaving only the tarrying sense of dread from her nightmare.

"That was a weird dream."

He stared at her. "That wasn't a dream. Something was blocking me, I couldn't get in."

She stared at him. "You were trying to get in my head?" She felt a twinge of irritation. He didn't answer, but he didn't drop her gaze. She remembered. "Emily."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he threw himself down on the bed next to her. "Should have known. What did dear old great-great-great..." He paused, considering. "... -great-great grandwitch want?"

Bonnie shook her head. "She told me to be careful. Something about danger... Maybe she didn't like the blood sharing."

The twinge of irritation bloomed into a full-blown annoyance that left the witch confused. She didn't like this, but why was she so peeved? Then she realized that she wasn't, Damon was.

"Are you annoyed with me?"

He turned his head and blinked at her. "What?" He paused, and she stared at him. "Oh. No, I'm annoyed with grabby little undead witches, bossing people around from beyond the grave."

Bonnie knew the feeling.

So this was why Damon had been so reluctant to make the blood bond. This was what he had meant when he said it was personal. He had no choice now but for her to feel his inner motivations, those secrets he guarded most selfishly and carefully.

Against her better judgment, Bonnie felt sort of impressed. This was a greater sacrifice that he was making for his brother than she had realized.

They had been lying in silence for a few minutes when she noticed that he was still beside her in her bed. His arms were folded behind his head as he stared resolutely up at the ceiling. She wondered if he had sensed her revelation.

"Will this blood bond last forever?"

He shook his head. "It will fade over time if we don't exchange any more blood."

The relief that swept over her was tempered by a tiny twinge of regret. She recognized with a shock that she liked the way it felt to be suffused by such an explosive power. Her own power had been intuitive, potent, an epiphany. But this was something else entirely, an icy river of sparks coursing deep through her veins. She decided to not think about it.

"You can go back to your bed now, you know. I can handle a little nightmare."

He rolled his eyes. "You can't lie to me, little witch. I felt all that heart fluttering and rushing adrenaline." He turned onto his side and winked at her. "It was pretty hot."

She scowled. "Well, I'm fine now. So get out."

She shoved her hands against his chest futilely, and he didn't budge an inch. She glared to see his smug grin. The grin collapsed as she pushed power into her hands, which grew fiery hot against his skin.

He flinched, swearing he heard sizzling. "Fine." He pushed himself up and moved to his own bed.

Her triumphant smirk was overshadowed by a grimace as she was surprised to feel a jolt of pain against her own chest. She made a mental note to avoid giving Damon any aneurysms while they were under the blood bond.

She rolled over, turning her back to him, and soon drifted to sleep.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

The skin on his chest had grown pink and blistered under her defiant touch, but it quickly healed as he lay awake in his bed.

He felt restless, like someone was tugging at his seams.

Of all people he could have allowed in on the hidden workings of his psyche, this judgy little witch might have been last on his list. Well, other than Stefan who would be no fun to toy with otherwise.

She saw through him often enough as it was. This new insight would definitely make her completely insufferable.

Still, he had to admit there was something pleasant about the way he felt her power roiling beneath his skin like some kind of wildfire.

He turned to look at her sleeping form, the curve of her hip shrouded beneath blankets as she faced the opposite wall. He noticed that his sight was even more enhanced despite the darkness, another consequence of the blood bond.

Her lips had been soft but urgent on his wrist, and she had leaned into him when he pulled her close. He hadn't expected that. Maybe it was true what they said about the demure girls being the freaks.

Good thing she wasn't awake to sense that. He smirked to himself, closing his eyes.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

She cringed at the tangled turmoil bubbling up inside of her as his cell phone rang. He took a hand off of the steering wheel, reaching into jacket pocket. One glance at the screen and he silenced the ringer.

"Who was it?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. He shrugged. She pressed on, "Was that Elena?"

"Dunno."

A flush of irritation bloomed in the pit of her stomach. His irritation with her. It was Elena.

"Wait, you haven't told her about any of this, have you? Damon, seriously? What the hell!"

He felt her anger simmering and reaching a rapid boil as the realization hit her that her best friend was in the dark while her boyfriend was being held captive. Sighing inwardly, he waited for the onslaught.

It never came.

She pulled out her own phone and dialed. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "What are you doing, judgy?"

She gave an exaggerated shrug, rolling her eyes at him. "Dunnooo."

He heard Elena's voice on the other end. _Oh my god, Bonnie where are you? Are you okay? Nobody's answering their phones! Have you heard from Stefan?_

"Elena, it's okay, I'm fine. I have to tell you something, okay?" She paused. "Klaus and the Hunter have Stefan. But we - "

Bonnie yanked the phone away from her ear as Elena panicked, her voice ringing through shrilly with a cascade of worries. "Elena! Elena! It's okay! It's going to be fine. Damon and I are going to fix it, I promise."

_Where is he? Where are they keeping him?_

Bonnie shook her head, forgetting her friend couldn't see her. "We tried a locate spell this morning, but they have him warded somehow."

Elena's voice broke as she asked, _How come no one told me?_Bonnie felt a twist in her gut and looked over to Damon, who stared intently at the road.

Bonnie's voice was soft and soothing. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay, Elena. Trust me, we're going to get him back."

Her friend grew quiet. _Where are you guys?_

"We're on our way to Atlanta. Look, Stefan will be fine, Klaus is practically in love with him. There's no way he'd let the Hunter actually hurt him. We're going to fix this."

_I can't just sit here and do nothing! It's Stefan._

Bonnie frowned, understanding her friend's frustration. "I know it sucks, but I think it's safer this way. Something's up with Klaus, there's no way he'd heal you of the werewolf venom without expecting something in return. Maybe you should keep your head down for now."

_You know I can't - _

"Why don't you focus on your transitioning? Stay with Caroline, you know she wants to help."

The blonde vampire's voice piped up in the background. _She's already here, Bonnie! We're going to try... the blood bags again... _Her friend's voice trailed off uncertainly, and Bonnie could envision Elena's withering glare.

Every phone call was a conference call when your friends were all vampires.

"Elena, I'll call you soon, I promise." Bonnie clutched the phone, hearing her friend exhale.

_Bonnie? Just... just be careful please._

The witch assured her friend that they would and closed her phone, tucking it back into her jeans pocket.

"Well, that went well." Damon's smirk was arrogant, but Bonnie felt something helpless beneath the veneer. She said nothing.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

Emory University's campus was not like Whitmore. Of course it had the usual motley crowd of college kids milling around with their overstuffed backpacks and ultimate frisbee. Yet this place had none of the small town familiarity that Whitmore had. Imposing marble columns flanked every building, and ancient towering trees were lush with soft pink blossoms, their delicate petals cascading to the neatly manicured lawns below. Everything about it seemed somehow noble, at once lofty and beautiful.

Bonnie wondered what it would be like to escape to a place like this, away from the claustrophobia and constant peril of Mystic Falls.

She strode to keep up with Damon's smooth gait as he crossed the lawn towards a stately building. Carved into the marble that stretched over the doors, sharp letters proclaimed the place as the Michael C. Carlos Museum.

Bonnie peered through the entrance as Damon paid for their tickets (or at least she hoped he paid for their tickets). It was practically empty this early on a weekday.

He brushed past her and she followed him into the exhibit, snagging a pamphlet from the smiling greeter. "Who Were the Phoenicians?" she mumbled, reading the cover. Inside the brochure there was a map detailing the locations of the various highlights of the collection, the building's layout full of maze-like twists and turns.

"What are we looking for?" Bonnie asked, trying to keep up as Damon moved purposefully from room to room.

He made a quick about-face and she stopped short to keep from colliding with him. Poking his index finger against the pamphlet, he pointed to one of the rooms in the back of the building. "It's a sarcophagus they dug up somewhere in Algeria."

"How do you kno - "

"The Hunter," he interrupted. He drew the creased paper from a pocket in the lining of his leather jacket, unfolding it and holding it over her open brochure. "Jeremy the Boy Wonder got a good look at his ink. Involuntarily, of course."

"How is this a map, anyway? It's just a tattoo."

"We'll find out in about 2 minutes. No idea what it has to do with a sarcophagus either, but this is where he said to go." He glanced around and spoke to the empty room. "So here we are, vampire and witch, as requested for all your Pandora's box opening needs."

"Wait a minute, give me that." He handed her the diagram. She traced her fingers softly over the coiling knotwork and imagery. "This isn't a map, these are symbols... I've seen symbols like these in the Martins' old grimoires."

He raised an eyebrow. "Witch hieroglyphics? What could possibly go wrong?"

"This is a message..." She stared at the drawing, entranced. Her feet moved to follow Damon as he continued toward the back of the building.

She looked up and saw it, unaware that they'd reached the back room. "It's so... small."

Damon walked around the sarcophagus, eyeing the symbols carved into the heavy grey stone. "Looks like it was made for a child."

Bonnie stifled a shiver. What kind of creepy mess had they been thrown into this time?

Slowly, she made her way around it, surprised to find that the only barrier between the artifact and the public was a meager velvet rope. She held the papers to her chest with one hand while reaching out towards the graven stone with the other.

Her eyes flew open as her fingers brushed the coolness of the stone, and the sarcophagus seemed strangely slippery despite the heavy carving. "Weird... it's like there's nothing to hold onto."

"Yeah, so there's no way that's a good thing." The vampire stood off to the side and she felt his anger simmering.

She pulled her hand away from the sarcophagus and walked towards him. He pointed to a plaque mounted on the side of the display stand.

"Is that... is that Atticus?" She squinted at the picture as if she could will it to be someone else.

"Unearthed by none other than the great Professor Pants-on-Fire. Somebody's got some explaining to do."

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

"He's not answering his phone." She was irritated. Why was it that every guy who ever showed any glimmer of interest in her was just using her?

"Poor Bon-Bon. Men are such cads, yes they are." He pouted at her mockingly. "What now? Cherry Garcia and Gilmore Girls reruns at the hotel room?"

She rolled her eyes, trying to push down her dread about blood sharing with Damon Salvatore at the behest of a man who was most likely lying to her. "Shut up, Damon. And don't call me Bon-Bon."

"You got it, Bon-Bon."

She sighed.

He pulled the Camaro into a spot outside a rundown bar. She climbed out, puzzled.

"What is this place?"

He didn't answer at first. Eventually he said, "Just a dive I used to know." He pulled the front door open, motioning with his head for her to go inside.

The past year had not been kind to what used to be Bree's bar. With the proprietor mysteriously and gruesomely murdered, the place had been shuttered and eventually sold, only to reopen in its current ramshackle incarnation. The blinking sign outside read "Blondie's Tavern."

They sat at one end of the bar, and Bonnie was surprised at how crowded the place was for a Tuesday afternoon. A cast of varied characters leaned over the bar and filled more than a few of the scattered booths. Bursts of shrieking laughter broke through the smoky haze to reveal a group of women at a table in one corner, and she guessed by their business attire that they must be coworkers on a late lunch.

She smoothed Jeremy's drawing out over the surface of the bar while she waited for her burger.

"It was weird, when I touched the sarcophagus it felt slick, like it was completely and magically sealed. I saw the carvings and nooks and crannies, but the feel of it didn't match. It just felt like something slippery... and cold."

He propped his elbow on the bar and ran a hand through his hair. "The pamphlet said they weren't able to open it, and all the scans just kept coming out looking like a solid black box."

Her fingers traced along the lines of the tattoo mindlessly.

His eyes softened as he watched her. "So what do the symbols mean?"

She shook her head slightly. "I only know a little, it's not exactly an alphabet. These coils are lines of energy, tangled. And the reaper they encircle, that's - "

"Death?" he suggested.

"Fate." She pressed her lips together. "Tangled lines of fate."

She pointed to the image of a woman, nearly hidden in the strands, writhing and naked. "Humanity, lost in the snarl."

She felt a tense stillness through their bond. She looked up to see that his gaze was elsewhere, but she knew he heard her. "I don't know what these letters on the strands mean. I _would _have said we should ask Professor Shane, but..." she let her voice trail off.

She saw his gaze was fixed on the bartender. "Don't go all spurned lover on me now, witchy. If he's double-crossing us, we'll rip his ugly head off, don't you worry."

She tried to hide a smile, shaking her head. A foreign flare of guilt clenched tight in her chest as Damon continued to eye the bartender.

"What's going on with you?" She peered at him, her lips twisting into a confused frown.

"Just because we got the direct party line thing going on doesn't mean we're going to have sleepovers and braid each other's hair, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Don't be a douche, just tell me. It isn't like I could think any less of you."

His icy blue eyes flickered to hers angrily, and he fired back on impulse. "Last year I ripped the heart out of a witch's rib cage, about five feet from where you're sitting."

She stared back at him, her smirk fading. "You don't scare me, Damon. Why'd you do it?"

He was silent. Their food came and he began chewing on french fries. She finally gave up and picked up her burger to take a bite.

His voice was quiet, the words slipping from his lips slowly as if each were carefully and painfully considered. "Stefan's friend Lexi. Last time I was here, Bree tipped off Lexi's boyfriend, and he tried to kill me… To avenge her death."

Bonnie set her burger down, suddenly not at all hungry. "So you killed her too?"

His eyes narrowed at her angrily, but she felt inside of him a squirming, lurid guilt. "She betrayed me. I had no choice."

She huffed out a breath of air. "Of course you had a choice, you always have a choice."

He turned away, stuffing another fry into his mouth. She felt the anger and hurt twisting inside of him and decided to let him be.

Bonnie poked a finger at the soft bun on her plate. Why did it feel like they kept having different iterations of this conversation, over and over?

A new drink was placed in front of Damon, who raised his eyebrow. Hooking a thumb at the corner table, the bartender explained that the ladies in the corner table had sent it to him.

He lifted the glass with a smirk, bowing his head to the women who were all turned to watch him. They fell into another fit of tipsy laughter, and Damon sneered to Bonnie, "A toast to Cougar Town." She rolled her eyes.

He brought the drink to his lips, but a strange whiff caught his attention. His nostrils flared angrily and he dropped the glass, which shattered as it hit the floor. Vervain.

His eyes scanned the room quickly, and Bonnie watched him with a growing sense of unease. He noticed a figure slipping out the back door and leapt to his feet in pursuit.

"Damon, wait!" Bonnie grabbed her things and ran after him.

A fist swung towards Damon's face as he pushed through the back door, and he barely managed to duck out of its path.

"Bold move showing up here again." Lee pulled a stake from his jacket and rushed at Damon.

Damon rolled his eyes, swerving to dodge Lexi's boyfriend's assault once more. "I should have known it was you."

"Yeah, you should have. And you should have left well enough alone. I reopened this bar in honor of their memory. You don't get to come in here and defile that."

Bonnie rushed through the door and came to a standstill. She eyed the two vampires as they stood in mirrored crouched stances, glaring at each other warily. Damon held out a hand to her, signaling her to come no closer.

"She loved you, you know. Killing Lexi was... bad enough. But Bree, she actually caredabout you despite everything you did to us."

Damon groaned. "Can you even hear yourself? Just shut _up_already. I'm not your grief counselor."

"True. You're just the dick who rips his own friends' hearts out of their chests."

Damon lunged at him, shoving him up against the back wall of the tavern. One hand throttled the man's neck as he used the other to twist the arm pointing the stake at his chest.

Lee moaned in pain as the bones in his forearm snapped, and the stake fell to the ground with a clatter.

Rage swelled in Damon and he dug his fingers into Lee's chest, boring his way towards the vampire's heart. Lee roared in anguish.

A wave of fear and remorse tugged at the periphery of Damon's consciousness, and he felt the wide emerald eyes that were on him. He only hesitated for half a moment, but it was enough.

Lee threw Damon off of himself, and he crashed into the side of a parked truck. Bonnie grimaced as the metal crunched sickeningly. In a flash, Lee had picked up the stake once more and stalked towards Damon as he struggled to climb to his feet.

Damon prepared himself for Lee's next strike, but the other vampire fell to his knees, wincing as his hands clamped over his ears. Damon looked up in surprise at the witch. Her gaze was focused on Lee, her arms extended towards him as an incantation flowed silently from her lips. Lee collapsed, unconscious.

Damon grabbed the stake and loomed over the incapacitated vampire. He didn't look at Bonnie. She felt a flutter in her gut.

He dropped the stake. Neither of them spoke, but she knew a choice had been made.

"Witchy migraines are way better when you're giving them to somebody else." He turned and began to walk away as he said the words, and she strode alongside him.

She smiled slightly, and he pretended not to see.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you guys for reading and reviewing and following and favoriting! Sorry I couldn't respond to the anon reviews, but you're all amazing and so inspiring, wow (: Thank you!**

**Hoping that the pacing for this is okay, I'm still figuring out what works and what doesn't. Enjoy the new chapter, please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim all the things!**

* * *

The concierge chuckled conspiratorially on the other end of the line. "Candles and oil, of course sir. Will you be needing anything else?"

"Yes." Damon glanced again to Bonnie who sat on the bed with her legs crossed, mouthing words to him silently. "Crushed dandelion root."

"Um, sir?"

"Crushed. Dandelion. Root."

"Sir, I'm afraid we don't ha - "

"What kind of sham are you all running here? A five star hotel with no crushed dandelion root?"

"I beg your pardon, sir. We'll have that up in... in just a moment."

Damon dropped the phone into its cradle with a smirk.

Bonnie grinned and rolled her eyes. "You think they'll actually find some?"

He shrugged. "There was a new agey place down the street. We'll compel the bellboy if not." He looked smug, viscerally feeling her revulsion as she stared at him in disbelief. "You let me worry about that, anyway. You figure what you're going to do with Emily once you get her here."

"Well she clearly knew something. If we can get that out of her, it'll be better than the nothing that we know right now."

He nodded, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

When the boy finally showed up, Damon tipped him excessively. They had found the dandelion root.

Bonnie laid the candles in a wide circle on the floor as Damon shut and locked the door. He noticed a faint wrinkle form on the bridge of her nose as she focused, and with a soft _whoosh_ all of the candles were lit.

A nagging doubt tickled the edge of her conscience. She hadn't performed heavy magic since the ill-fated spell that returned Klaus to his own body and sentenced her Grams to whatever torture the witches had decided to mete out on the Other Side. She felt Damon's cool hand on her arm. She vaguely realized that this should make her uncomfortable, but she wasn't. Her eyes didn't seek his, yet the firm and confident resolve that coursed across their bond seemed to overwhelm her doubts in that moment.

She was a Bennett. She could do this, she had to do this. She felt warm, and the distinct sensation washed over her of having recovered something she'd lost.

He took back his hand, sensing the change in her. Gingerly, he pulled off his daylight ring.

"You're sure it won't be destroyed?"

She nodded absentmindedly, going over the spell once more in her mind. "We need something of Emily's, and it contains enough of her magic that it should work."

Reluctantly, he handed the ring to her.

Stepping away from the vampire, she set the room's empty ice bucket in the center of the candles, dropping the ring into it and pouring water and the lightly scented oil over the band. She sprinkled some of the crushed root over the mingling liquids as ancient whispered words slid over her tongue. The silver letter opener dragged across her palm, and a trickle of blood joined the mess in the bucket. The candles flared as she closed her eyes, and she felt a heavy pressure building in her head.

The familiar tang of blood ached in her sinuses.

She heard Damon clear his throat.

When Bonnie opened her eyes, Emily stood within the ring of candles, her face placid.

"Hello, Bonnie."

"Emily." Bonnie replied smoothly.

"Hi _Emily_." Damon gave a flirtatious wave and did a poor job of stifling an amused grin as both witches turned simultaneously to glare at him. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Now I see it. Family resemblance, nice."

Bonnie flinched at the word family and looked at the floor. "Emily, my Grams..."

"Sheila is stronger than you know. She will recover from that ordeal. However, you need not tempt further pain upon her by upsetting the balance of nature again." Emily stared at her descendant, her expression blank.

Relief flooded through her to know she was okay, but Bonnie shook her head with a resigned sigh. Her Grams' well-being was still being extorted by the witches. She looked back up to her ancestor. "What did you mean in my dream, when you said I was in danger?"

Emily's voice was soft but stalwart. "The plan is a trap. Releasing the gift of the Five requires the sacrifice of a blood bonded witch and vampire."

Bonnie's shoulders slumped. "So Atticus _was _in on it."

Damon bit back the impulse to make a snide remark about the professor. Instead he studied Emily's chill visage. "Witches... ruthless little things. You'd drop one of your own, just like that?"

The corners of Emily's mouth turned downward slightly. "Everything on the Other Side is now perverted by Esther. The power of the massacred witches is no longer being channeled for balance, but instead wielded in her vendetta against her own children."

Damon felt a flare of anger in Bonnie. She smiled bitterly. "Hijacking my body and leaving me to be drained by the creature they made out of Alaric is proof enough of that, isn't it?"

He didn't want to think about what Alaric had become, or about whose fault it was that the teacher died often enough to be so thoroughly poisoned by the witches on the Other Side. He didn't want to think about that night, waking to find Bonnie's body bloodied and motionless on the floor of a crypt, with his friend nowhere to be found.

Emily spoke, her eyes flashing towards the vampire. "Thank you for what you did that night. You kept your promise to protect my bloodline despite the fact that I reneged on my end of the bargain."

"You probably shouldn't bring up your betrayal. That was very painful for me, you know. I could still change my mind about that whole "protect the bloodline" thing," he snarked. But Bonnie sensed warmth spreading through his chest at her words.

Since when did Damon Salvatore feel pride at doing the honorable thing? she wondered.

An enigmatic smile flickered over Emily's lips.

"Here's what I don't get." He changed the subject. "Why is Klaus working with them?"

Emily shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but her words were cut short. She stared at something beyond Bonnie's shoulder and ducked her face beneath her arm as flames engulfed the area within the ring of candles.

Bonnie raised a hand to shield her eyes from the blinding white fire, and as the blaze subsided a different figure stood inside the circle.

"Esther," Bonnie growled.

The Original witch's face twisted with a cool rage as she turned to face Bonnie. Slowly, she raised an arm towards her.

Damon felt pain searing through his body as Esther focused on Bonnie, and for a moment he was disoriented, falling to his knees. The overwhelming noise and light and pain crushed together into an all-encompassing roar around him. He dazedly wondered how the witch was hurting him while not even appearing to see him. But then her screams finally registered.

His eyes flew to Bonnie, her body taut and straining under the Esther's cruel gaze. Her piercing screams seemed ceaseless as they poured from her lips.

He struggled towards them, lunging forward and pushing the circle of candles into disarray, releasing the summoning spell's energy. Esther vanished.

Bonnie felt herself falling as the agonizing grip of the Original witch was released. Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders before she could hit the ground.

Her eyes fluttered open and saw icy blue before closing again.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

He laid her motionless body on the bed, watching with grim satisfaction as the wound he'd gouged into his wrist faded away.

He felt the tense dread still gripping his chest, remembering the way her body had writhed and stretched unnaturally under the assault of the Original witch. He wanted to tear that bitch limb from limb. Fucking ghost witch.

When he realized he was pacing, he sat down at the table.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had happened, but he had to admit that something was different between him and the judgy little witch. If he was honest, it had started way before the blood sharing. The snark they bandied back and forth had long ago become something he anticipated rather than an irritation.

He depended on her without hesitation when push came to shove because he trusted her to not make stupid decisions like every other idiotic child in that godforsaken town. Because, much like him, she had proven time and time again that she knew how to get things done.

He knew that the reason he'd fallen in love with Elena was that at the times when he'd been most vulnerable, she had seen him, accepted him, and comforted him. She had the potential to be everything Katherine should have been to him if Katherine weren't such a monumentally terrible person. But on some level, he also knew that Elena only saw what she wanted to see. The incongruence between what he was and what she saw was evidenced in their every argument.

He and Bonnie had no such misconceptions about one another. She saw him for what he was. She worked with him despite the things she found unacceptable. It was as if some part of her was daring him to do better of his own accord, not because she held any false expectations. He found himself wanting to rise to the challenge, every time.

There was a very short list of people in the world whom Damon Salvatore liked, and an even shorter list of those whom he trusted. Bonnie Bennett had somehow juju-ed her way onto both lists.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

She woke to find herself lying on the bed. Her body sank into the fluffy white blankets and for a moment she felt drowsily at peace.

A splash of crimson staining her shirt broke the spell almost immediately. She bolted upright. "Why am I bleeding?"

His voice was tired, and she turned to see him sitting at the table. He was leaned back, his head tipped over the back of the chair. "My blood, not yours. You needed it."

Her mind swam, trying to remember what had happened. "Esther."

His eyes were closed, and he ran a hand through his messy dark hair.

"Damon, you..." She looked at him, her gaze finally sharp and alert. "Thank you."

He lifted his head to glance back at her. He nodded.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

Her shirt had been ruined of course. She held Damon to his promise from the day before and sent him out for clothes and supplies while she cleaned away the remnants of the summoning spell.

Finally stepping into the shower, she felt a surge of gratitude for the way the warm water felt as it rushed over her. She found she felt strong and unalone for the first time in a while, despite the looming threats of vampire hunters and Original witches and killer hybrids.

She didn't know why, but she hadn't felt this good in so long, and she decided not to mess it up by overthinking it. What began as cheerful humming in the back of her throat swelled into a reckless burst of song.

Throwing her hands up, she spun in a tight circle, her feet gliding through the splashing water. Her hair flipped wildly and sent shampoo suds across the interior of the shower. "_You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to meeee..._"

She tossed her hair again, delighting in the feeling of the wet strands hitting her skin.

"... _But we-eeee are never ever ever - _" She jutted her hip to one side. "_Getting back together._"

She giggled to herself, wondering if this was what a descent into madness felt like. Slightly off-key Taylor Swift and a completely irrational sense of elation.

When she walked out of the bathroom in her towel, she was surprised to find him back at his perch at the table.

"Fast shopper," she mumbled. She unconsciously lifted the hand that wasn't occupied with holding up her towel, catching the pile of folded fabric he launched at her.

She glared at him and he smirked.

She slipped back into the bathroom and put on the camisole top and pajama bottoms, pleased at their comfortable fit. When she walked back out, he hadn't moved. She threw herself onto her stomach on her bed, trying and failing to ignore the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned.

Maybe having a complete lack of shame was a requirement for being a vampire. No, that wouldn't explain Stefan. It was just Damon, then.

She rolled her eyes and reached for the remote, stretching her arm towards the nightstand between the beds. She flipped through the channels as her mind wandered back to their confrontation with the Original witch.

Esther had been angry. Despite the consequences of that anger, it pleased Bonnie. It meant that they were on the right track.

"Not happening." She looked up at Damon and realized he was frowning at the screen. She hadn't noticed that she'd stopped surfing through the channels. She laughed to discover what he found so offensive.

"It's not so bad, Caroline loves this show."

"And that ought to tell you everything you need to know. We are never ever ever ever watching America's Next Top Model."

Her skin flushed and she glanced up at him. How fast a shopper was he, anyway? Had he heard her in the shower?

"Like ever." He looked smug, his arms crossed over his chest.

Yes, he had. She rolled her eyes again and deadpanned, "You're hilarious."

"I _know_." He grinned.

She felt a bloom of affection spreading through her chest, and she realized she was sensing an echo from the blood bond. She looked at him curiously.

"Like what you see?" He winked at her.

"Don't be gross, Damon." She scoffed, but her exasperation quickly melted away.

He raised an eyebrow, feeling the craving inside her. "Why, you little addict." He smirked cockily as he understood.

She huffed out a breath of air, indignant, but he'd already made his way to the writing desk before she could respond.

Using the letter opener, he nicked the base of his neck and stood before her. She climbed to her knees on the bed and shuffled towards him, her eyes alight.

Fisting the fabric of his shirt with both hands, she stepped off of the mattress and pushed him hard so that his back slammed against the wall. Her mouth pressed against his neck forcefully and he groaned in surprise and pleasure at her roughness.

He drew his arms around her, hooking her thighs and lifting her so that her legs wrapped around his waist. His eyes shut as his head rolled against the wall, lost in the feeling of her lips cajoling the blood from him.

Sated, she tossed her own head back with a contented hum. He took the opportunity to sink his fangs into her throat. She cried out, and her hands raked through his hair and down his back as she clung to him.

She didn't have to be afraid. She could just let go and float on this.

He pulled his mouth away, giving her skin a final playful lick as he let her slide her legs down his body until she was standing on her own again.

His arms were still around her and she leaned into him, breathless.

Her eyes flew open.

"What am I doing?" She pushed him away and took two large steps back, stumbling onto the bed. "Why do I feel like this?"

He heard her heart thumping wildly in her chest. "It's the blood." He caught her eyes in his gaze. "It's euphoria... and it's power. The single most irresistible thing to someone like you or me."

"I - I can't." She slumped forward and held her head in her hands, her eyes flitting wildly to and fro. "No, I'm nothing like you!"

The wrenching in her gut was immediate, and when she looked up she saw that his face was shut down. "You know, I keep hearing that lately. Can't figure out why, though. Joining the club has its _perks_," he enunciated wryly.

"Damon, it's not..."

He felt the remorse writhing alongside her shock and horror. Still, he turned away and shut himself in the bathroom for a long shower.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

When he came back out, Bonnie was fast asleep, curled up atop the covers of her bed.

In the darkness he saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept, and he heard her pulse flowing smooth and strong.

He pulled one of the blankets off of his bed and draped it over her body, the light sheet billowing before clinging to her like a mantle of mist.

Crinkles formed around his eyes as he watched her for a moment longer, pensive and frowning. He climbed into his own bed and went to sleep.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

The wan morning sun filtered lazily into the windows of the museum, refracting through the dewy condensation that blanketed the glass to create scintillating patterns across the walls inside. To Bonnie's sleep-laden eyes, it seemed as if they were surrounded by tiny, dancing rainbows.

She wanted to crush each and every stupid one for daring to be so cheerful at such an hour.

"Hey, Grumpy! Move your ass," Damon called from the back room.

She muttered something he couldn't quite decipher, the words "burn" and "ugly face" rising above her low grumbling.

The museum wasn't open yet, technically. Compelling the morning staff to close off the sarcophagus room for "emergency maintenance" had been simple enough though, and when the museum doors opened a few hours later, they would remain undisturbed.

She brought both of her hands to the carved surface of the sarcophagus, frowning as it seemed once more to slip beneath her fingertips. Carefully, she pushed power through her hands, trying to determine the magical nature of the artifact. The energy flowed around the box, coursing lightly across each face of it. She could sense nothing.

She shook her head. "How do you penetrate something impenetrable?"

She felt a twinge of amusement that was surely not her own this early in the morning.

His mouth opened to speak and she cut him off before he could impart any of his sparkling wit. "It's way too early for that, Damon."

"Oh quit your bitching, witchy. It's not that early. Besides, we're on a deadline here, remember?" He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her moaning grouchiness hilarious, having always been something of a morning person himself. Not to mention he was still smarting from her words the night before.

Still, he spoke the truth. They needed to get this thing open, time was running out.

As if summoned by the thought, a gravelly voice echoed behind them. "Too true, mate. Tick tock."

Klaus. Bonnie felt her stomach drop, the raw anguish of her last encounter with the Original hybrid rushing back to her as she turned to face him. She made a conscious effort to keep her heartbeat steady and glared at him. A pair of hybrids stood behind him, one carrying a wrapped package.

"What, no clever rejoinder?" He stepped towards Bonnie with a smug smile.

The witch crossed her arms and said nothing.

"Is this the silent treatment? Don't be like that, love." He traced his fingers along the curve of her jaw as she stood defiantly unmoving. "You know I'm eternally, eternally grateful to you." He smirked.

Damon pushed his way between the witch and the Original. "What do you want, Klaus? You're the one so hell-bent on getting this thing open, so why're you wasting our time?"

Sharp eyes flicked from the face of the younger vampire to the witch who now stood behind him, and Klaus' lip curled into a sneer. "Just thought you might like the key."

Bonnie arched an eyebrow. "There's a key? That would have been useful information to know when we first got here."

"So cross in the morning! It's a beautiful day, Bonnie, just think of all the less fortunate places you could be." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing a number nonchalantly. When a voice answered, he spoke again. "Would you believe our darling witch seems to need a little _motivation_ this morning?"

He held the phone away from his ear. Despite her lack of vampiric hearing, Bonnie clearly heard Stefan's roars of anguish as the hybrid on the other end of the line followed Klaus' orders.

Damon rushed at Klaus in rage. "You son of a b- !" His shout was cut off as Klaus met him head on and shoved him against the opposite wall. One of his hands was planted firmly around the younger vampire's throat, and he casually flipped his phone shut with the other.

"Temper, temper," Klaus crooned. He turned to the hybrids as his grip tightened around Damon's neck. "Give it to her then."

The hybrid carrying the package allowed the canvas wrapping to fall away, revealing a dirt-encrusted sword. Bonnie and Damon both tensed as the hybrid moved towards her, but he presented her with the hilt rather than the blade. Cautiously, she took it in her hands.

The sword was corroded and pockmarked, the faded metal forged into a broad, straight blade. Wrapped with tattered scraps of leather, the hilt too was battered by time. The wrought bronze cross-guard was caked with dirt, but its embellishments were intact: a ring of bronze extended over the base of the blade, centered with a symbol. Set into the pommel, she noticed a faceted crystal.

As her fingertips brushed the crystal, buzzing tangles of energy leapt frantically beneath them. She felt her chest tighten as she sensed the potent magic of the crystal, and a quick look at Damon showed that he'd felt her realization.

She shook her head. "What am I supposed to do with this? It's just some sword." She glared at Klaus.

The Original hybrid growled, releasing Damon and standing in front of Bonnie in a flash of movement. His hand gripped her arm, and she couldn't help squirming as his fingers dug into her skin. "Figure it out, love. You've got one more day."

Giving one last smirk, he dropped her arm forcefully. She turned a knowing glance onto Damon as Klaus and his lackeys finally left.

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 


End file.
